


The Brightest Magical Valley Ever To Sparkle

by fizzyblogic (phizzle)



Category: All-American Rejects, British Comics RPF
Genre: Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-08
Updated: 2008-05-08
Packaged: 2017-10-07 20:07:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/68777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phizzle/pseuds/fizzyblogic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyson is a rainbow, Nick is a unicorn, Mike is a magical pink pony, and Chris is a waterfall. Also, Edgar Wright is a bunny. I know, I know you knew that, but no really. Bunny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Brightest Magical Valley Ever To Sparkle

All was still on a misty morning in February. Tyson was sleeping curled around Nick, blues rippling deep to light to deep blue rhythmically, covering Nick's shining white flanks.

Chris was the only one awake, falling over the rocks as usual. It was early, so he didn't feel like leaping down them; give him some time and a little more sunlight and maybe then he'd think about it. But it was far too small an hour to be doing that now.

A bunny came lolloping over the grass towards the pool Chris jumped into. He reluctantly steeled himself for some performance babbling, and possibly shimmering in the dawn light, but as the bunny got closer, he saw that it was only Edgar, and he slumped gratefully down to the pebbles.

"Morning," Edgar nodded at him. Chris made a noncommittal splashing sound. "Did you see the new guy? Don't suppose he's come here yet."

"New guy?" Chris asked, voice a little rocky.

"Yeah, Mike, this pony, just got here. Think he's a transfer from the Magical Forest."

"Really?"

"Well," Edgar evaluated, "he's pink. That generally indicates magicalness. They tend to come from the forest, so."

"Logical," Chris nodded, the ripples of it lapping at the pebbles near Edgar's paws.

Just then, the soft tread of hooves on dewy grass followed a pink pony across the meadow and over to the pool. "Hey Edgar," Mike smiled.

Chris forgot to babble.

* * *

Mike fitted in so perfectly to the valley that by the end of the first week, it was as if he had always been there. He spent a lot of time with Nick, eating sugarlumps out of the sugarlump flowers, getting chased by Tyson, and frolicking. Chris leaped and bounded majestically down his rocks whenever Mike looked his way, but Mike never came over unless it was with Nick and they wanted to frolick by the pool.

Nick started bringing Mike over more often, and Chris babbled gratefully. He splashed and gambolled with gay abandon, and Mike frolicked all the more magically and majestically with Chris as a backdrop. Tyson kept putting his feet in Chris's pool, watching the frolicking, and leaning his red in close to murmur, "Mike's mane looks extra shiny today, don't you think?"

Chris leaped brilliantly. "Shut up, Ty."

"No really, I mean it. I think you bring a little something to his frolick. A certain ... specialness."

"He has that already," Chris muttered, unable to concentrate on much that wasn't pink and cantering. Tyson reached with his green and patted Chris.

A few more weeks passed, and the sun shone, the mist rose and reflected Tyson's colours glitteringly, and Nick added another shimmer to his collection. He kept bringing Mike over to glimmer in Chris's spray, and the days they didn't spend by the pool, Chris merely fell; no style, no splendour, no atmosphere, just dropping water.

One morning, after a day or two spent down by the river, Chris heard the soft sound of hooves. He prepared himself for some show of babble or at least murmur, but before he could get started, the hooves got closer and Mike came into view.

"Morning," he greeted Chris, but instead of cantering or even glittering a little bit, he dropped to the ground and rolled over, hooves dangling over the edge of the grass.

"You okay?" Chris rippled close. He reached out and touched Mike's hoof haltingly.

"Didn't sleep much," Mike murmured. His eyelids drooped, and Chris rippled a little closer.

"I didn't keep you awake, did I?"

"No, no." Mike's smile, when it broke out, was dazzling. "My head was too full, is all."

"Want me to help with that?" Chris murmured, movement breaking against the pebbles. Mike smiled wider.

"Yes," he said, standing up. "Please."

He trotted into the pool, step by step, and hesitated by where Chris was falling softly. Chris moved a little aside, and Mike stepped into the glittering spray.

Chris poured onto him, sluicing over and bounding off Mike's shoulders, his back, his head. Droplets danced over Mike's mane, which he tossed, whinnying softly. Chris shimmered, and sparkled, slowly working tension out of Mike's body, until Mike was neighing loudly and delightedly.

Tyson's voice called from nearby, "Get a room!" Chris ignored him, wholly focused on Mike. He drifted down his mane, over and over, the movement softer each time.

Mike turned, twisting his neck around. "That's nice," he said, smiling serenely.

Chris enveloped him in droplets and shimmered in the sunlight.


End file.
